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She sniffed. “It’s not that.”
“What is it then?” He reached out and gently brushed away the tear that had escaped to run down her cheek. “You’re breaking my heart, Angel. Tell me what I did wrong, and I’ll fix it. I promise you, I will get better at this dating stuff.”
Her smile was tremulous. “It was the first time you’ve spoken about Fiona like it was normal, like you weren’t in pain.”
Duncan jerked back and went over his words. He hadn’t even noticed what he’d said. He’d been more concerned about Donna’s comfort than the fact Fiona was gone. At first, he didn’t know what to say, and then he just went for brutal honesty. “She was taller than you are. I got used to her matching me stride for stride. But I wasn’t comparing you. It was a comment on the differences and a reminder that I need to be more aware of how I treat you.”
“I know.” She bit her lip and looked up at him. “I know I can’t compare to Fiona, and I’m not trying to. I’ve seen the photos, and we’re nothing alike. She was beautiful. Like a model on a runway.” She gave him a shaky smile. “Hence the height. I know I’m not her, and I’m not trying to replace her. This is just one date. It’s that, I’ve never heard you talk like that before. It was obvious you cared deeply for her, but you didn’t sound broken. If you know what I mean.”
“Aye, I think I do.” But it was something else she’d said that bothered him more. He reached out and cupped her cheek, feeling the satin-soft smoothness of the skin beneath the roughness of his palm. “She was beautiful, Angel, but you’re beautiful too. There’s no comparing you, because you’re both unique.”
She looked away, embarrassed. “You don’t have to say that. I understand.”
He frowned as he gently turned her face back to him. “I don’t think you do. Do you know why I call you angel?”
“Because slave sounds wrong?” she quipped.
“No, it’s because that’s what you look like to me.” She shook her head, and he stopped her. “Listen. There’s been many a time you’ve stepped into a sunbeam, and your hair has shone around your head like a halo. No, I’m saying this wrong, it was more like the otherworldly glow that the Pre-Raphaelite painters used on their models. Your skin sparkles in the light and your hair fills with a million colours that blend and shimmer. The sight brings a grown man to his knees.” He scoffed at himself. “I should know. It’s done it to me often enough.”
“Duncan, it’s okay—”
“Shh, let me tell you how I see you.” He stroked her silken hair. “You’re all curves and softness. The kindness in your heart just radiates from you and pulls everyone around you in closer. I dream about your skin—its colour, its softness. I wonder if the colour of your lips appears anywhere else on your body, and I itch to find out.”
She blushed, and it made him groan.
“And that blush, Angel. I want to fill a canvas with the colour, but only after I’ve stripped you naked to lie on the couch in my living room, with the warm evening sun bathing your mouth-watering curves and making your hair dance with a million colours.”
Wide, green eyes looked up at him, holding such vulnerability, it ripped him in two.
“You’re not Fiona,” he told her. “And I don’t want you to be. You are perfect just as you are. Beautiful. Unique. Just. As. You. Are.”
He closed the distance between them, sipping at her lips as though she held the most precious of nectars. The wild side of him that Fiona’s death had freed wanted to take over, to press her back against the wall, flip up her dress, and plunge into her warm, welcoming depths. But he was strong enough to keep the instinct caged because he wanted her to know how beautiful she was and what she did to him. He didn’t want there to be any doubt. Taking her in a fury of desire would make her think that this was only about his needs, and he wouldn’t do that to her.
With a strength he didn’t know he possessed, he broke their gentle kiss. “Come on, let’s go eat this tiramisu before it goes off.”
Looking dazed, Donna grasped his hand, and he led her to the orangery. This time, he remembered to shorten his stride.
Chapter 18
Donna had been in the orangery many times—after all, she’d been the one to oversee its renovations—but the beauty of the room still took her breath away. The large solarium, or conservatory, on the south side of the house, had once been used to grow exotic fruit, such as oranges. Hence the name of the building.
The builder had told her that the wall between the house and the orangery was three times thicker than in the rest of the house, to insulate the room from the cold northerly winds. The rest of the room was built with stone and metal, rising up to the second floor of the mansion, to give enough height for the trees. Long glass windows filled the southern wall, to maximise the sun, and the roof was made of smaller glass panels, fitted into the domed shapes that formed the apex of the room. She knew it had been one of the first buildings to design an orangery with a glass roof, and it was one of the things that made the mansion special.
They passed the raised beds, filled with exotic flowers, and rounded the fountain that was not only ornate but gave the air the humidity the plants needed to survive. Tall ferns rose up around them. In the centre, where the roof was highest, were fruit trees and palms.
Outside, a mixture of grey-hued clouds and sparkling stars filled the sky above them. Donna knew where they were headed. There was a seating area hidden in the middle of the room. It held a small ironwork table and two chairs, and behind it was a rattan daybed, with plump, cream coloured cushions. If you lay on the sofa on a clear night, it felt like you were floating amongst the stars overhead.
All that could be heard was the running water of the fountain and her heels clacking on the terracotta-tiled path beneath them.
“I love this room,” Donna said as she breathed the heady, green scent of the plants into her lungs.
Duncan looked around, as though seeing it for the first time. “It’s the best part of this house.”
“You don’t like the mansion?”
“It was never my thing. It was Fiona’s dream, but I don’t mind it.” Now that was interesting.
“If you could live anywhere, where would it be?”
